


Plants

by clareironbrook



Category: Portal (Video Game)
Genre: 1950s, Gen, Old Aperture, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 13:35:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10742730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clareironbrook/pseuds/clareironbrook
Summary: As personal assistant to the CEO of Aperture Laboratories, Caroline was used to chaos. But on days like today, Caroline found herself wishing, privately, for just one day where everything didn’t go wrong.A mostly fluffy Old Aperture oneshot. Happy (late) Caroline Appreciation Day 2017!





	Plants

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally drafted literally years ago. Since I'm trying to revive, edit, and publish what I can of my old fic, I pulled this one out and finally finished it for Caroline Appreciation Day (Administrative Professionals Day).

As personal assistant to the CEO of Aperture Laboratories, Caroline was used to chaos. It was part of the job- it was part of science. Science didn’t get done without testing, and testing often meant chaos. But on days like today, Caroline found herself wishing, privately, for just one day where everything didn’t go wrong.

She hadn’t been at her desk outside Mr. Johnson’s office for five minutes before she got an urgent call from Test Subject Reception, and she made the long walk down to the enrichment spheres to see what the matter was.

“What do you mean, no test subjects?”

The receptionist was desperately flipping through folders of test subject records. “We have plenty scheduled for next week, but…we don’t have anyone scheduled for the next few days, ma’am. Something must have been overlooked. I don’t know how it happened.” 

The cringe on her face clearly said _please don’t fire me;_ Mr. Johnson’s reputation for terminating employees on the spot preceded him, but Caroline had neither the authority nor the propensity.

“Can we…call anyone in early? Move the schedule around?” Caroline suggested.

“It’s no use. It would take them too long to get here, and then registration and orientation takes a day in and of itself.”

Caroline instructed her to keep looking for a solution, then headed back upstairs. This was bad, this was very bad- bad for science, and bad for the company. They’d lose money if testing was stalled for days on end.

As it turned out when she reached the office again, money lost on testing was the least of her concerns. 

“There’s a truck here with _what,_ ” she barked into the phone at the receiving office on the surface.

“…Ten thousand potted ficus trees, ma’am,” said the receiving manager. “Supposed to be for the administrative offices. Thought someone from higher up would maybe want to check this out. Got forwarded to you.”

“I’m on my way,” she said.

Just as she hung up the phone, Mr. Johnson arrived. For all the things that made Cave Johnson a difficult CEO to manage (or wrangle, as many of the scientists said when he wasn’t listening), he was punctual, as a matter of principle.

“‘Morning, Caroline,” he said, as she took his coat and handed him the coffee she’d prepared minutes before.

“Good morning, Mr. Johnson,” she replied. “There are some papers on your desk from Accounting for your signature, and don’t forget you have a meeting with the board of directors at eleven.”

“Heh. Bean counters. All right,” he said. He gave her the warm smile that was, more often than not, reserved exclusively for her. He spent most of his days shouting at the lab boys to defy the laws of nature and physics a little more, and then shouting at the ‘bean counters’ when they told him how much it cost. 

“I’m feeling good today, Caroline,” he said. “You feel that? Feels like we’re going to get some science done today.”

She smiled back, the sudden pit in her stomach notwithstanding. “Always, Mr. Johnson. I’ll be right back, Receiving just called for approval on a shipment.”

He scoffed. “Tell Receiving you’ve got better things to do,” he said, but waved her off and went into his office.

Caroline dashed out of the office and towards the elevators, but she didn’t even get there before she ran into more trouble. As she passed the labs, a mustachioed man in a lab coat stepped into the hall, looking thoroughly dissatisfied.

“Caroline,” he grumbled, “is Mr. Johnson’s office aware that my lab has no test subjects on the slate until next week?”

“I’m dealing with it personally, Dr. Green,” she said, doing her best to keep her exasperation out of her voice. 

“Well, I’m certainly not dealing with Johnson when he comes down here. I can’t afford to lose any more interns,” Dr. Green said.

“I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen, Dr. Green,” Caroline replied. “What are your interns working on?” 

“Some kind of laser,” the scientist said dismissively, pointing at the office next door. She peered inside; there were three young men hunched over around some kind of pronged emitter. Numerous burns adorned the walls and ceiling.

Excusing herself- and reassuring Dr. Green one more time that Mr. Johnson wouldn’t fire his interns- Caroline continued on. She rode the elevator up to the small office on the surface where shipments to the facility were received.

(She couldn’t help but take a deep breath of fresh air as soon as she stepped outside. As much as she loved being in the facility, the sun and the breeze were a welcome change.)

Minutes later, she was staring down an eighteen-wheeler stuffed with potted trees, a sheepish delivery driver, and the panicked receiving manager- handing her the manifest, with an invoice straight from Aperture accounts payable. 

She grimaced at the expense on the bottom line, but in her head, the wheels were already turning on a plan.

“Whoever ordered these is getting a letter from Mr. Johnson’s office that plants are not an acceptable use of company funds, and to double-check their orders next time,” she said. Turning to the receiving manager, who was handing over the driver’s paperwork, she added, “Send all of these down to the enrichment spheres immediately. Whichever is available.”

The receiving manager choked. “ _What?_ ”

“You heard me. I want them all downstairs as soon as possible.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She watched him hurry off, and then turned and went back the way she’d come. Dr. Green looked surprised to see her when she knocked on his door.

“Are there any experiments that _don’t_ require a human test subject ready to go?” she asked.

“Er…I’d have to check on that…” 

“Because there are, as we speak, ten thousand ficuses on their way to the enrichment spheres. Surely you can find something to test on them for three days.”

He looked stupefied. “Isn’t a ficus a-“

“A plant,” she finished. “I know we don’t normally specialize in botany, but it’ll have to do.”

A group of lab boys appeared in the hall- the interns.

“We’re ready to test our project,” one of them said tentatively. “We think it might be good as a testing aid, so we need to see what it does to living things. Normally we’d want to test it with a human, but plants would be a good start…”

“Get it down there,” she said, without hesitation. Dr. Green watched them hurry away, with mild consternation that she’d given his interns orders.

“Dr. Green, get everyone on this,” Caroline said, heading towards the stairs. “I need those plants _gone_ by next week.” 

She got back to her desk in time to take a call from the receptionist in Test Subject Reception, who was in a near panic to have been delivered ten thousand ficuses.

“The scientists are on their way,” she explained. “Just distribute the plants to the spheres. Anywhere they want them. Call the secretarial pool if you need more hands.”

Caroline settled into her desk. Paperwork and calls had already piled up. She looked at it- and then she made a decision. She directed one of the executive assistants to take her calls, and that if Mr. Johnson needed her she would be in the enrichment spheres for the next several hours.

The phone was already ringing when she got there.

“What in the hell is going on, Caroline,” said Mr. Johnson.

“I’m making sure science gets done today, sir,” she said. “Like you wanted.”

She heard him grumble, then say, “If you think you need to. You keep those lab boys in line for me. I’ll see if this secretary you left me can keep up with me.”

“Please be nice to Beth, Mr. Johnson. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

He hung up with a click. She set the receiver down, and then turned her focus to testing.

A short time later, she was sitting behind the glass with the rest of Dr. Green’s team- protective eyewear on, clipboard in hand- as the interns prepared the test of their invention. Below, in the test chamber, an associate placed a potted ficus on a mark on the floor before hurrying away and sealing the door behind them.

“All right,” said Dr. Green. “Test number one for- what are you boys calling this thing again?”

“We were thinking ’Thermal Discouragement Beam’, sir,” one of them said.

“Hmm. Okay. Test one for the Thermal Discouragement Beam, effects on stationary plant material.”

Caroline reached out and pressed the microphone button. “Activate the Thermal Discouragement Beam,” she said, with a genuine smile.

Below, the apparatus- mounted to the wall opposite the ficus- shuddered to life. After a few minutes (one of the interns muttered ‘It’s calibrating,’ but it looked more like a worrying amount of shaking and humming), a narrow red beam sprung from it with a crackle of energy.

The laser beam hit the ficus, which immediately started to smoke, then burn. The entire tree was quickly consumed in a bright orange flame; burning leaves popped and fell.

The thrill of doing Science jumped through Caroline’s veins as she watched. Even if all it had resulted in was a burned plant (the remains of which were currently being extinguished and swept away), it was still Science. 

She had copies of the test results delivered to her desk over the next few days, to keep up with their progress. Almost every research department had a try at testing the ficuses. Dr. Green’s interns had gotten some important data on their Thermal Discouragement Beam, enough to have it cleared as an experimental testing element.

However, they hadn’t gotten any real _results_ until they saw how humans interacted with it. (The answer was: badly, if they wanted to keep their extremities. They were adding it to portal device test chambers as soon as next week.) Although it had been an exercise in creativity, to see what they _could_ test on something that didn’t have hands, feet, or sentience, the truth was that the final results had been somewhat subpar. 

If the ficus incident had been of any value, Caroline reflected later, it would be that it taught them that…

 

——

 

_“…you can’t test plants. We tried. They just sit there, never showing pain nor fear. That isn’t science.”_

She realized what was happening as soon as she’d said it. GLaDOS canceled the processes that had sprung up under Her nose- replaying the memory files without Her permission- like squashing a pest. She tried to trace their paths back- but, as usual, they’d disappeared. She thought she’d severed all the connections to that corner of her programming, but it kept finding ways through at inopportune moments. 

She had to keep closer tabs on what she let through her vocal processors. It wasn’t like it mattered to Blue and Orange, but it was a lapse in Her own self-control, and she wouldn’t have it.

Through her cameras in the test chamber miles away, She watched Orange make a misstep on the hard light bridge and fall into acid, thrashing and sparking. She was already having its new body assembled, pulling its most recent memory data from the mainframe and sending it to be uploaded to its core. For the thousandth time. 

_"Back to testing.”_


End file.
